Forsaken
by Sweet ColdShallots
Summary: There are so few innocent people left in this world. Christine Daae was one of the few; that is why I loved her so. But that is all over, that was my past. Now I shall focus on the present, and what does it hold? Vengeance.
1. Introduction at the Gallows

_This fanfiction is a little different, I'll try to explain it, so no one is confused. First of all it's written by two people Shallots (me) and Sweet Coldkiss. The story is told from two character's alternating point of views, I will right one POV and Sweet Coldkiss will write the other. They are Erik (Shallots) and Meg (Sweet Coldkiss)._

_Sadly since we both have other accounts and are currently writing fics for them this one will only be updated once a week. (Sorry) But I guarantee it'll be worth it. Enjoy_

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I stood there, staring out towards the sea of people before me. Some talking and laughing amongst themselves, others shaking there heads in disapproval. Most of them shuddering at the sight of my unmasked face. Not the audience I had hoped for, but I suppose this is no ordinary performance. Far from it, this is The Phantom's last appearance. After tonight only stories of me shall remain. And what stories they will be. I cannot help but smile. I have been everything from a ghost to a magician, a man to a monster, a demon to an angel. An angel, that is surely the most ridiculous of the tales told about me. I am far from a beautiful, heavenly creature.

The hangman slid a rope over my head and around my neck. My list of crimes was read before the crowd. Murder and arson mostly, occasional theft but nothing to large.

A dark-haired girl at the front of my audience caught my eye. Her thick curls and porcelain skin reminded me of her. Of Christine Dia. I cast a smile her way. Her dark eyes widened with fear. I laughed to myself.

Ah Christine, I wondered where she was at that moment. If I was on her mind or if she knew I was going to hang tonight. Probably not, she was so caught up in her perfect little fairy tale world. She had always lacked a sense of reality, I suppose it was from her father's early death. But that's what makes her so perfect, her innocence. For years I spoke with her, teaching her to sing from the vaults of the opera house. To her I was nothing less than an angel. She never questioned me or feared the voice in the dark. Even when she found my true identity she showed no fear at the sight of me. Any revulsion she had showed was do to the monster I am but not in appearance. That is what she had told me.

The young women in the crowd retreated with a group of friends, away from the sense. I watched her fade into the distance just as I had Christine. I recall the night so clearly, my first kiss. With that she had proved such love for her fiance, I had to let her go. I now regret that decision, but that is over now. She placed the engagement ring in my hand, for a fleeting moment I thought she would stay. Instead she turned and walked away. I watched she and her lover disappear.

Shaking with anger I destroyed what had held me for so long. I shattered the mirrors within my dungeon and left the Opera Populaire that night. There was no use in staying, the music was gone.

Inside my heart my love and adoration towards Christine Daae was replaced with a quest for vengeance. An attempt to heal my pain. I wanted to bleed out the world and watch the entire time. Is that crazy? Perhaps, but I admit my sanity is long gone. And what led to my inevitable madness? Everyone, anyone I had ever been in contact with. All of those before, they cower at the sight of my deformity. Because of this face I was made a spectacle of, I was shunned, beaten and nearly killed on more than one occasion. I have lived all my life without love or acceptance. No one understands, no one listens, no one cares. The only person in this world to show me genuine kindness was Madame Giry.

Perhaps that is the reason I showed some mercy to her daughter when I finally returned to what was left of the opera house.

Funny, it's said that before you die your life flashes before your eyes. Perhaps it is because I am not yet dangling from the end of this rope but instead of a brilliant flash it is more like a dream. Or rather a nightmare of the past months, of what brought me here. Of what led to the capture and arrest of the Opera Populair's "ghost"...


	2. Just a Ballerina With Nowhere To Go

**A/N: **This is Sweet Coldkiss and mah chapter. Actually, I have no idea where Shallots wanted me to start with this but...I'm gonna try! Ummm, incase you missed the last note, I'm writing from Meg's POV. So here it is!  
XOXO Sweet Coldkiss

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**Meg POV**

Carefully, I slipped a creamy white ruffled blouse over my head and smoothed it over my corset. Unconsiously, I arranged the ruffles down the front. Tonight's opera performance was different and it brought an air of apprehension down over the entire cast. Tonight, you performed the mysterious Phantom's opera, "Don Juan". Slipping my feet into a pair of knee high brown leather boots, I wandered over to the tall mirror and brushed back my straight blonde locks. I fluffed my bangs out over my eyes, and with that I was ready.

As I walked around backstage, the familiar noise of the theatre goers comforted you, but all too soon a hush settled over the theatre as the conductor took his place in the orchestra pit. Christine brushed past you clinging to the arm of her lover, Raoul. I tried the offer the distressed brunette a smile, but she ignored me. Since she had been recognized as a great talent, she began to ignore me and others alike and had chosen to spend her time with Raoul. When she wasn't with him, she often disappeared for hours at a time. Usually after some such disappearance, she returned in a dreamy, trance like state.

As the prelude began to play, Christine wiped tears from her eyes and straightened her shoulders. I watched as Raoul placed a final kiss on her slightly parted lips before leaving to go to his box seat. As the curtains parted, loud cymbals and low horns began the play. The music took on a dark tone. I watched various women dance across the stage, all singing and all scantily dressed. From your place backstage, you could see the audience members' faces flash from shock to horror to disgust.

Suddenly the tone of the music changed, soft and almost sweet it lulled the atmosphere. Christine entered the stage, barefoot and clutching a basket of roses. As she sang, a man dressed all in brown with a long matching cape entered from the opposite side. His black mask concealed his features, although...something about him didn't look quite right. The part was to be played by short, slightly round Monsieur Piangi.

Yet the man who confidently strode across the stage was neither of those things. He was tall, poised, and had a certain charm about him. He began to sing to Christine, his tone dark and seductive. As his voice filled the theater, he wooed Christine, his words hinting at both passion and lust. As I watched, Christine's face took on the dreamy look I had often seen after one of her common disappearances. As the man in the mask held Christine in his arms, realization dawned. This had been who Christine had been seeing so often and this was the man responsible for all the chaos as of recent. This was the Phantom.

As haunting, melodic words dripped from the Phantom's lips, I was suddenly filled with an indescribable longing. If a tall, handsome man would only sing to me and look at me the way the Phantom was looking at Christine, I would bend to his every will. Suddenly, it seemed unfair. After all, Christine had Raoul as well as the Phantom. Lost in my musings, I was startled as several loud screams pierced my ears. Focusing my attention back to the stage, I couldn't help but clap a hand over my mouth the hold in my own startled gasp. Mid-song, Christine had apparently reached up and pulled off the mask that had long hidden the Phantom from the world.

Although, as I studied his face for the split second afterwards, I realize it wasn't as bad as the stories made him out to be. All too soon for my liking, the Phantom decided on his escape. With an arm around Christine, his sword sliced through the air and in a quick swoop, sliced through a thick rope that tied into a web of ropes. A trapdoor opened on the stage floor and the Phantom jumped into the dark depths with Christine who, with a look of undisguised fear, clung to him.

A loud crash echoed through the theatre and I gasped as a saw the huge chandelier begin swing and the crystals chimed noisily. Chaos filled the theatre as audience members screamed and frantically ran towards the exits, almost trampling each other in the madness. Frantically, I looked around trying to find my mother. I caught sight of her hurrying backstage rather than towards the exits. As I followed her, she whipped her head around and caught sight of me.

"No, Meg no! You must go back!" she shouted at me. She grabbed Raoul's arm and pulled him down into the depths of the theatre. Confused, I watched her go.

Several men and police rushed after her as if to follow. "No!" I shouted frantically. Desperately, I hurried into Christine's dressing room and led them through the secret doorway I had accidentally discovered only days before. Running through the dimly lit stone hallway, I heard crashes and cracking above my head. The chandelier had falling and was now causing endless amounts of damage. The smell of smoke entered my nostrils and with horror, I realized the gas lamps must have spilled their flames into the theatre.

"Hurry!" I called desperately. The men behind me followed more quickly. After running down several flights of stairs, a manmade lake appeared before me. It twisted into a waterway that ran through golden arches. Unsure of the depth or how far it ran, I stepped in, the water which came to the middle of my thighs. Splashing through the water, falling bits of charred wood fell around me. Quickening my pace, I ran as well as I could in the water. Panting, I struggled through the water as it slightly deepened. A sudden increase of light caused me to squint.

As I squinted into the sudden light, I breathed in the scent of melting candle wax. Every surface had some sort of candle sitting on it and the small amount of dark smoke floating off the naked flames added to the eerie fog floating above the water. I stumbled out of the water onto a shore of loose stones. Gasping for breath, I peered around, searching for any sign of Christine or the mysterious Phantom. Broken shards of glass littered the floor and thick heavy curtains of velvet hung everywhere. An ambiance of magic seemed to hang in the air. A huge organ sat in the center of the room and loose sheets of music lay on the organ and on the floor surrounding.

You walked up a flight of stone stares carve out of the stone wall. In one room, was a mannequin no longer wearing any clothing but that wasn't the strange thing. The mannequin's face was identical to Christine's. Shaking my head, I wandered into the next room. The finery there took my breath away. A large bed in the shape of a swan sat in the center of the room. Every intricate line of the feathers stood out perfectly and inside cushions of velvet lay. Each one was trimmed with gold thread and the sheets were of pure silk.

Gently, I ran my fingertips over them. As I stepped back, I noticed a long gold colored cord hanging by the bed. Tugging on it smoothly, a long curtain of black lace fell down over the bed. I smiled softly and turned to leave. Suddenly, an object caught my eye. Sitting atop a tiny music box was a ceramic monkey holding a pair of miniature cymbals. I touched them delicately, but I must've flipped the mechanism to set it into motion because a soft, tinkling tune began to project from the box; a familiar, yet unfamiliar tune.

I set the box down carefully and backed out of the room. Almost instantly, I felt a cold chill run up my spin. I felt...eyes; watching and observing. Ignoring the feeling, I continued my search of what seemed almost like a separate world. Drawings covered one wall; mostly drawings of Christine. The shading was precise as was the every detail of her face. The likeness was unreal. I began to feel sympathy for the masked man. He was so captivated by Christine Daae and was willing to lay down everything for her, yet she rejected him for a "childhood sweetheart."

I bit my lip as I contemplated a white object carelessly tossed onto the floor. Gingerly picking it up, I realized it was a plain white mask, one used to cover only half of the face. The Phantom had left it, but why? Why would he leave behind his closure? I turned to show my discovery to one of the men, but when I turned around, no one was there. I heard voices and splashing down the tunnel leading out and as I chewed on my lip, I realized they had left without me.

Tears trembled on my lashes as I sank onto the cool stone floor. I was so alone, and I had no where to go. I was a ballerina and that life was all I had ever known. I needed someone to take care of me. With my head throbbing, I stumbled back up the stairs and into the room where the bed was. I fell into it, the softness of the cushions immediately pushing me into a deep slumber.

When I awoke, I had no idea what time it was or even what day it was. I was surprised to find that I didn't care. I decided I didn't want to leave. So for the next few days, I didn't leave. I stayed in that bed, only leaving when hunger or other bodily needs forced me. I forgot sunlight, and remembered only darkness. However, all that was about to change. As I feel into my next deep, dreamless sleep, a new presence entered my new dwelling.

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**A/N: **So what did ya think? Reviews would be nice!  
XOXO Sweet Coldkiss


	3. Return To The Opera House

The Opera Populair was basically gone. It had became a blackened shell of it's former glory. I had tried desperately to avoid the opera house, it held far too many memories. But living on the streets unmasked was unbearable. I tried to avoid human contact those days. Not only because I was a wanted man but because of my shame. This face. It's difficult for someone of a whole face to understand the pain and shame I was forced to bear day after day, so exposed to the world. So I usually came out at night. It was coldest then anyway and I found it nearly impossible to to sleep in such frigid conditions.

I only lived a few days in that state. I surely would have perished continuing such a way of life, some days a thought I might as well. I lost everything when Christine left me at the bottom of the burning Opera Populair. She was the only thing that made my wretched life worth living after all. I awoke each day for her, to hear her sweet voice. To hope someday she would join me and love me as I loved her. But what was I thinking.

I clearly remember stumbling back to the opera house, wondering what I would do next. I was beginning to think I should just end this miserable way of life. I had accepted that I would never find happiness in this cruel world. I pondered over the ways I could take my life. I would not hang myself, that's how my victims lives were lost. I did not own a gun. I decided that perhaps I slit my wrists allowing myself to simply bleed out, with memories of Christine Daae singing softly in my head.

Upon entering the "Phantom's Lair" I noticed something strange about my home. All of my candle's were still lit. I thought it was very odd that so many candles would have stayed burning but I contiued on. I searched through my things, wondering if I even had a knife. But suddenly I sensed a precense. As if I was being watched.

Slowly, I reached for a rope lying near me. I turned looking into the dim light of my dungeon. I knew I was not alone here. Slowly, I turned and inspected every crevice of my cave. My attention was drawn to a velvet curtain twitching slightly. I crept over to the curtain and with a sweeping movement of my arm, I tossed the curtain aside. Standing there was a girl, wide eyed and trembling with fear. I whipped my rope up and prepared to tighten it around her pale neck, her quick cry of, "Wait!," paused my movements.

"It's me," she said in a voice radiating with terror. "Meg Giry." Quickly, I removed my rope and stepped back.

"Meg," I said coldly. "Why are you here? You should leave." I turned away and walked back toward my exit.

"Wait!" came her soft, pathetic cry. I turned to look at her, my expression stony. Her eyes filled with tears. "I'm so alone." The tears now tripped down her cheeks. "Please...Let me stay with you."

My expression softened slightly. "Why would you want to stay with a deformed...monster." I choked on my words as I recalled events of my past. Meg sniffed loudly.

"I..I don't care. I just need someone,"

"Why did you come here," I still remained turned away from Meg.

"I don't know," she breathed.

I stood wondering if I should go and what I should do with Meg. I looked down at the rope wound tightly in my hand.

"You should go," I said once again, hoping that this time she would not protest.

"You knew my mother," she stated ignoring what I had just said, "I remember her coming down her often when I was younger. She always came down at night when she thought I was asleep. One night I followed her. It was easier to then, to travel down here, I followed behind her without her noticing," her voice shook, "That was the first time I saw you. And I could never forget... and not because of your face. It was because you were so... so sad,"

I turned towards her, I had not expected that kind of compassion. But at the same time I wondered why. Why would she feel any sorrow for me? Perhaps she was only trying to save her own life. After all I still held a weapon and she knew it. It would not have been hard to toss it around her pretty little neck and strangle her to death. I decided that was the cause of her sad story. It was wise on her part, so I spared her life. I sat the rope I had been clutching aside.

"I suppose, if you must, you may stay,"

The blond ballerina nodded and gave a small thank-you.

I went in search of a mask, I had several sitting around my home. Over the course of my life in the bottom of the Opera Populair I had collected several different styles of masks. Late at night when the building was closed I would visit the costume room. In this room they kept several masks, stage makeup and obviously costumes. I helped myself to these items. If an employee noticed the missing costumes assumed it was the opera ghost. Frequently they had been in to much fear to make any attempts to stop this apparition, fools.

I chose a white mask which covered most of my face. I beleive it was one of my first masks in my collection. Madame Giry had given it to me. She knew I was uncomfortable with my exposed deformity and brought it as a gift on one of her visits. She often brought masks on her journeys to my dungeon, that is until she stopped coming...

I glanced at Meg, fixed in her spot. Her wide eyes watching me. Meg's gaze was a bit unnerving but I continued to look through my things. Thankfully not everything I owned had been looted. I picked up a picture of Christine before hearing Meg's footsteps softly advancing behind me.

"Did you draw that?" she asked in her soft English accent.

I replied a short yes as I looked at the picture. Christine was indeed the loveliest girl I had ever met. I ran my finger down her dark curls depicted in the drawing. It hurt knowing I may never see her again. She had meant everything to me. I recall the days in the bottom of the opera house, I would sit writing music. Always with her in mind and how she would sound singing that particular piece. Those days were long gone however. I would never write for her again. I returned the picture to it's place on the table. It was time to stop dreaming about what could be, that never got me very far in the past. I live in a cruel and unforgiving world. And so I decided why should I be anything less...

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_Hey it's shallots, I apologize for taking eternity to get this out and thank you to those who didn't give up on this fic and read it. You're awesome! I approach my fics with very little details of what I'm going to do, that's why this chapter was such a long wait. I tend to just let things happen. In addtion to my severe lack of plans I'm working on another fanfiction on my shallots account (which is pretty rad...just sayin'). So I am sorry for that, but I hope you like Forsaken so far. Again I really appreciate you readers. Reviews would be great as well (really great), I'd love hearing your thoughts and ideas on how the story is going. :D_


	4. Transformed For Revenge

**A/N: **Sooo, this is Sweet Coldkiss. I think my chapter is a bit late and I apologize for that. I've had a bit of trouble deciding what I wanted to do with Meg's character as well as starting a new fanfiction on my own account. So enjoy and reviews are GREATLY appreciated.  
XOXO Sweet Coldkiss

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**Meg POV**

I shivered as a saw Erik's shoulders go from relaxed to tense in just a few seconds. He turned to me with a scowl on his face. I had to admit he looked pretty frightening with the skeleton shaped mask. I vaguely recognized it as one Monsieur Piangi had worn during the Opera Populair's production of "The Masque of Red Death." It then dawned on me as a mask that Erik himself had worn during the infamous Masquerade Ball. Erik strode over to me and roughly grabbed my shoulders.

"If you're going to stay with me," he growled. "We need to get some things clear." When he let off, I quickly nodded in fear of evoking his anger. "You WILL earn your keep and you WILL do exactly as I tell you to do." Biting my lip, I nodded again. "Unless," he said, his face twisting up in a smirk. "You would prefer to leave now and take care of yourself..."

I knew I had no other choice. With downcast eyes, I nodded. The Phantom's gloved hand forced my chin up. "Now, you belong to me," he whispered roughly. Before I could even react, he forced me to sit down onto a nearby bench. "Sit," he commanded. He walked away, picking up items lying here and there before returning to stand behind me. I felt his fingers in my hair, pulling at the snarls and tangles there from neglect. "We wouldn't want anyone to recognize you, now would we?" I heard a loud snip and watched in shock as a long blonde lock of hair fell to the floor.

How could he be cutting my hair? No one had short hair. I closed my eyes trying to hold in my shuddery sighs as more and more hair piled around my feet. Pretty soon, the snipping stopped and Erik stepped in front of me to admire his handiwork. He pulled me to my feet and led me over to one of the few remaining mirrors. "Take a look," he said softly. I peeked at my reflection and my quick look turned into a long stare. My once long hair now fell in soft waves just above my shoulders and fluffy bangs framed my face.

In a way, it was pretty and delicate looking, but who had short hair these days? I would easily stand out. Suddenly, Erik's hands grasped mine and led me back to the rough wooden bench. I sat down daintily and crossed my ankles. I coughed and gasped as a powder puff was patted on my face near my mouth. Again and again, Erik brought the puff down on my face, covering my skin in the white silky powder. Soon, I was unrecognizably pale. "Now..." Erik muttered to himself.

"Now what," I asked in a voice barely above a whisper. He didn't answer as he rummaged through the pile of accumulated items on the bench beside me. He picked up a small compact and held it over a flickering candle for a few minutes. While he did, he scrutinized my features and his eyes burrowed into mine. Eventually he pulled the lid off the compact and picked up a small brush from the pile. He dipped the brush into the container and the end of the brush came out dripping a dark red substance. With it, Erik painted my lips, giving them a waxy feel.

Tossing the brush aside, Erik picked up another compact and another brush. Dabbing the brush inside, he then tapped it against the side. He then dabbed the black powder all around my eyes, dark and thick. From yet another container, a sparkly substance was smeared overtop the kohl. Finally, Erik set down his tools and stepped back. You unsteadily stood up and walked over to the mirror. Pale with black smeared around your eyes and painted red lips, you scarcely recognized yourself.

Erik walked over, obviously pleased at his handiwork. "Well," he stated. "Now, you're ready." Did I dare ask? Curiosity won over fear.

"Ready for what?" I asked in a dread filled voice. Erik looked at me, his face grim.

"For whatever may come," he said harshly. "Get some sleep. You must be prepared for what tomorrow holds." Out of fear, I obeyed. I crept into bed, unsure of whether to remove my makeup or not. I left it on, careful to avoid smudging it as I lay down on the cool pillows. As I drifted off to sleep, dark toned music lulled me into a deep slumber.

The next morning I awoke and found Erik already dressed and masked. "Here," he said, handing me a dress. It was deep purple with pearl buttons all down the back. The tight sleeves ended at the elbow, but had flowing lacy cuffs. The floor length dress was cut up the front to expose creamy white petticoats held out by several underlying petticoats. The top was rather low cut as well.

"What's this for?" I questioned. Erik smirked.

"You my dear are to be the tool of my revenge. You are the sweet seduction who I will use to lure and tempt." He gestured elaborately. "I think you'll do nicely."

I shivered on the inside. I was to be his temptress? I was to play a part in whatever scheme he concocted. Rapidly, I decided that was better then trying to provide for my self and the longer I looked at the dress, the more I began to see the bright side of it.

"Well, I'll just go get changed," I said semi-brightly, determined to make the best of the situation. I walked back up to the room in which I slept and dropped the simple frock I was wearing to the floor. Stepping into the other dress, I had to suck in my breath to begin to button it up. Try as I might however, I was unable to contort myself to get the buttons higher up buttoned. So, slightly embarrassed and feeling immodest, I had to go ask Erik for help.

His gloved fingers gently brushed against my skin as he pulled buttons into the proper holes. Shivers raced down my spine each time I felt the slightest touch on my skin. I was slightly disappointed when the last one was done. "There," he stated and he proceeded to turn me by shoulders so I faced him.

"Perfect," he said. "That color suits you beautifully." His eyes paused for a moment on the tops of my breasts scandalously exposed by the low cut dress. "Now," he said quickly. "I have another task for you. He handed me a tiny bundle of stick matches. "You must be very careful with these. They are very dangerous and weren't invented all that long ago so they aren't all that safe yet. Do not use these unless I direct you to." I nodded.

He handed me a tiny sliver and purple beaded clutch. "You may keep them in here along with whatever else I deem necessary." Gently, I fingered the clutch. It was one of the finest I had ever owned.

"Thank you," I whispered gently. Erik brushed away my thanks with a flip of his hand.

"Now, we must plan the first leg of my revenge," Erik stated a cold hard look covering his face.

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**A/N: **Such cliffhangers. haha I'm sorry but I'm having writers block at the moment. Please review! Next chapter will be better, cross my heart. (Shallots the pressure's on you!) Mwahahaha  
XOXO Sweet Coldkiss


	5. I Was Her Last Resort

**A/N: **Well...this is Sweet Coldkiss. I'm guessing Shallots is pretty busy with her fanfic so I'm gonna go ahead and write her chapter. I'm not sure how well I'll portray the Phantom so hang in there! Thanks so much to anyone who's been reading! Reviews, Faves, and Subscriptions or whatever they are have been awesome!!!  
XOXO Sweet Coldkiss

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**Erik's POV**

I could hardly wrap my mind around this latest development. Finally, I had someone who chose to be with me. Yes, I was her last resort, but she didn't seem frightened of this monster behind the mask. A tiny squeak pulled me from my thoughts. Meg now stood behind me, frantically shaking and brushing her skirts. Then she stopped.

"Spider," she whispered apologetically. I shook my head in disgust. How was this woman going to help me get revenge if she was frightened of a tiny bit of nothing with legs? I felt the slightest touch of a hand on my shoulder. "Monsieur?" she whispered, a becoming blush covering her cheeks.

Without her makeup on, she was beautiful. Still, I preferred her with her makeup; beautiful and frightening. Even so, standing barefaced before me now, she was lovely. "Yes?" I questioned, making my voice cold so not to betray my thoughts.

"I was curious as to whether you might be able to direct me to a fashionable hotel?" Meg looked up at me, her eyes sparkling and a smile on her slightly parted lips. Unable to say anything, I watched her; curious as to if her mind had gone. "You see," she continued. "I'm foreign to your city and I'm without friends here." She paused and licked her lips. "And I'm ever so lonely." She smiled flirtatiously and fingered the lacy cuff of one of her sleeves.

Playing along, I nodded and offered her my arm. She cast a look of adoration up and me and chattered about this and that as I led her across the cave and up the steps into what had become her sleeping chamber. "Oh thank you, Monsieur!" she gushed. "What would I have done without you?" She fixed her gaze on me suggestively. "How can I ever repay you?" She walked towards me, hips swaying with every step and the tops of her breasts displayed for my viewing.

I felt my heart quicken as she pressed her body to mine and took my gloved hand in hers. She pressed a kiss to my cheek before leading me to the bed. "Turn around," she said with a giggle. I complied. "No peeking!" I heard her say in mock sternness. Then, before I could react, one of my own "magical lassos" was dropped over my head and pulled snuggly against me throat. I whipped around and caught sight of the pleased expression on her face.

I merely looked at her, speechless. "How did I do," she questioned, her voice bubbling with excitement. I waited for the anger to boil up inside me, but it never came. "You see," Meg continued; her voice now tinted with nervousness. "I wanted to show you that I can handle whatever you throw at me." I nodded, one eyebrow raised.

"I think you'll do just fine my dear," I murmured, more to myself then her. It was so simple how this plan was unraveling in my mind. With Meg at my side, I could gain revenge on the men who had wronged me over the course of the many years of my living hell. She would seduce, I would drop in for the kill. One day, we would pay a visit to the one who had wronged me the most.

"Erik?" Meg's voice drowned out my thoughts. I focused my gaze on her. She chewed on her lip and lowered her gaze to my hands. I looked down and saw the rope that I had unconsciously been twisting around my hands. My wrists had turned white as my hands lost feeling due to lack of circulation. Hastily, I dropped the rope to the floor. I walked over to a nearby stand carved out of the rock wall.

Pulling out a piece of slightly yellowed paper, I walked over to an elaborately carved wooden desk. I spread the large sheet of wrinkled paper out and studied it closely. A puff of air beside my ear distracted me. "What are you doing?" Meg questioned in her simpleton voice. Sighed in frustration, I gritted my teeth and glared at her. Seemingly oblivious to my frustration, Meg merely leaned closer to the map spread out before me, her brow crinkling in confusion.

"What is this?" she questioned, wrinkling her nose slightly. I pushed her away gently and resumed my studying. "Is this the city map?" she continued. "Why do you have this?" Here she paused for breath. "Does this have something to do with your plan?" Just as she opened her mouth to speak again, I clapped my hand over her mouth.

"Do...you...ever...stop," I whispered harshly through gritted teeth. She looked at me through unblinking eyes. Suddenly, she collapsed in a heap on the floor. With a final sigh, I bent down and easily lifted her lean frame in my arms. Carrying her the few feet to the bed, I gently leaned down and placed her in it. Her wavy blonde hair fell in her face and her breathing was slow and gentle. She had merely fallen asleep.

"Sleep well my angel," I whispered softly. Suddenly, I stumbled a few steps backwards. What had I just called her? Had I really used the name reserved only for the one whom I had once loved? I rubbed my forehead with a gloved hand as I sank back down onto the desk chair. I forced myself to return to the map. Gradually, the frown on my face was replaced by a smirk.

"Ahhh, Monsieur Remi," I thought to myself. "So many times you refused the Opera Ghost's demands for money. Now you will pay." I knew Monsieur Remi's routine well. After a long day's work at the bank, a few drinks and a cigar were enjoyed in a hotel lounge; the perfect setting for my first form of vengeance. I studied the map carefully. The bank was located a mere 5 minute walk away. That is, if you were not a hunted criminal. My path would be through darkened alleys. I easily located a suitable way and committed it to memory. Dipping a quill pen into my inkwell, I carefully drew along the route. I then decided Meg would arrive at the lounge after Monsieur Remi had already arrived. I would escort Meg to the hotel for the sake of propriety then wait upstairs where I would make my grievances known.

Meg stirred softly in her sleep then sat up and looked around, disoriented. She focused her blinking eyes on me and a smile came to her face. "Was I sleeping long?" she questioned. I shook my head and motioned to the hourglass that still dripped sand and had been unturned since she slept. She swung her long legs down over the side of the bed and stood.

"Get your things Meg," I commanded. "It's nearly evening and we're going out." I ran my eyes up and down her figure. "But your corset needs tightened." Meg blushed and smoothed her hand down her bodice.

"I can't get it any tighter!" she protested, her eyes downcast.

I sighed impatiently. Walking over to her, I swiftly unbuttoned the buttons down the back of her dress. I heard her gasp as the dress fell in a heap on the floor around her feet. "Erik!" she protested violently. "How dare you!" I ignored her and wrapped the laces of the corset around my hands. As I tugged on them, she gasped and braced herself on the bed.

"Again?" I questioned. She nodded so I pulled again. Finally, they were tight and I tied the laces. Hastily, Meg pulled the dress up over her body and thrust her arms through the sleeves. However, she still needed my help. I couldn't contain the smirk as I did up the buttons on her dress. I looked her up and down again and nodded. "Now," I said. "Get your makeup and put it in your clutch along with the matches. We're leaving soon."

"Where are we going?" Meg questioned innocently. She began picking up the small round containers of makeup and sliding them into her clutch.

"Out," I said shortly, turning away from her. I gathered my own supplies; one of my lassos and a small vial of lamp oil. The vial fit into a tiny pocket located on the inside of my cape. After making sure my mask was on securely, I pulled the hood up and slightly down over my face, completely concealing my identity.

"I'm ready!" called Meg's bubbly voice. I turned to see her standing in a very ladylike manner, holding the clutch in one hand with her wrists crossed. I smiled as I imagined how the evening would end. I offered Meg my arm, which she accepted, and we strolled across the cave towards the back. Sliding back one of the heavy hanging curtains, I revealed a passageway, twisting and turning into the darkness. Having built the tunnel myself, I knew it's every turn and step. Meg however, was more then uncomfortable.

As I led the way through the dark tunnel she clung to my arm, her body quivering. I gently took her hand which seemed to reassure her. Soon, the passageway ended and with the push of a creaking door, we stepped out into an alley behind the charred remains of the Opera Populair. I turned to see Meg gulping in fresh air that she had been denied of for so long. Gently, I steered her towards the street. Warm summer air swirled around us as we joined the other couples strolling up and down the sidewalks.

Restaurants, shops, and gas lamps all spilled their light over the streets, brightly illuminating them. It was a typical night. Arm in arm, Meg and I walked leisurely in the direction of the hotel. It was by far one of the grandest and most noticeable buildings in the section of the city. Suddenly, Meg gasped and I found myself being dragged over towards a store window.

"Look," she breathed. "Aren't they beautiful?" She pressed her fingertips to the glass of the window.

'They' were a set of hair accessories; two silver clips studded with diamonds and rubies. I indulged Meg with a smile and gently pulled her away from the window. With a final longing look, she stepped beside me and we continued down the street. When we were a mere few yards away, I released her arm and stepped back.

"What?" she questioned.

"It is time," I said quietly. "Do it just like you rehearsed. Go and seduce Monsieur Remi."

"Who," Meg questioned, her voice exposing her confusion. Stepping over to one of the windows, I discreetly motioned to a short, slim man with sideburns who was sipping a glass of champagne.

"Him," I said bitterly. Meg glanced at me sideways, but didn't comment. Pausing for a moment, she fluffed her bangs and pinched her lips and cheeks to put some color in them.

"I'm ready!" she whispered. She turned toward the entrance and with a few steps, she was in. I watched from the window and saw her approach Monsieur Remi. He stood to greet her and I could see the way he lustfully eyed Meg.

Wrapping myself with the cape, I quickly made my way to the back of the hotel and into a side entrance. This would be a night to remember.

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**A/N: **Well...I dunno what to say. I don't like it, but I wanted to get it out there for anyone following the story. Shallots and I are pretty much making this up as we go. I apologize for "Monsieur Remi." I was originally going to use Monsieur Firmin or Monsieur Andre, but then I wouldn't be able to keep Meg's flirting/seduction lines. *spoiler warning* However, I imagine that the legendary Opera Ghost WILL get his revenge on every person involved in the Opera Populair who has ever wronged him.

Reviews and such would be fantastic!!!!

XOXO Sweet Coldkiss


	6. His Hands Humanized Him

**A/N: **Sweet Coldkiss again. Here is my chapter from Meg's point of view. Thanks so much for all the fantastic review. They make it so much easier to update knowing that someone cares enough to R and R. So again, thanks so much!  
XOXO Sweet Coldkiss

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**Meg's POV**

Boldly, I strode over to the table where Monsieur was enjoying a cigar. Based upon the rich scent wafting off of it, I guessed it was a very fine and expensive brand. Obviously my target was a rather wealthy gentleman. Ignoring any and all rules of propriety, I approached and curtsied deeply.

"Good evening Monsieur," I said in a husky whisper. Monsieur Remi looked up at me in shock and peered around me, seeing that I had no male escort.

"Madam," he stated in greeting and nodded cordially.

"Ah non non Monsieur," I said playfully as I offered my hand to him. "It is mademoiselle." Monsieur Remi kissed the back of my hand, his lips lingering a fraction of a second longer then necessary.

"Please," he said with a gleam in his eye. "Join me." Gracefully, I sat in the chair across from him and leaned on my elbows toward him. His eyes locked on my exposed cleavage and his lips curled upwards in a cat-like smile. "Can I order you anything to drink?"

"A glass of red wine would be lovely," I said after a slight pause. I, unlike many women, could hold my wine well. Knowing I must be clear headed to carry out my part in this plan, I chose carefully. Monsieur Remi summoned a waiter who happened to be lurking nearby and ordered a bottle of the finest red wine the hotel had to offer.

"Well," he started slowly, turning his gaze back towards me. I tilted my head and lowered my eyelashes. Monsieur Remi leaned towards me his eyes flitting between my face and my breasts. Giggling provocatively, I pulled an ivory handled fan from my clutch and snapped it open. Fluttering it, I used it to cover the smirk now twisting my lips. Inked very faintly on the inside of the fan, only visible to me, was a message from my Phantom.

I started slightly as the thought ran through my head. Had I really just thought the words _MY Phantom_? I was claiming possession of him. I shook my head to clear the thoughts that had collected in a jumble and read the pale lettering once more. In Erik's precise writing were the words, "Feathers dipped in poison incase of emergency."

So well planned he was. He even equipped the most seemingly innocent of objects to be deadly. I felt almost proud to know such a brilliant man. The waiter again approached the table, this time with the bottle of wine. He offered the bottle to Monsieur Remi who inspected the label and nodded in approval. The waiter poured each of us a glass and I nodded my thanks. Gently picking up the crystal goblet by the stem, I raised it and Monsieur Remi touched his glass to mine. Sipping it slowly, I was surprised when Monsieur Remi downed his in one drink.

"Let's have another!" he said as the neck of the wine bottle clanged against his glass. I smiled obligingly and took another sip out of my own glass. Two bottles later, I was still on my second glass and Monsieur Remi's tongue had become quite loose. My cheeks had started becoming quite pink at the things he had suggested and had it not been for the importance of my "mission" I would've long ago stormed off. Monsieur's thick words broke into my thoughts.

"Then," he slurred. "I would rip you outta them clothes and run my tongue all over your body." Then and there, I had decided that had gone on long enough. Throwing a hint of seduction into my voice, I leaned across the table.

"Why don't you show me then?" I whispered one silky eyebrow arched ever so slightly. Thumping the delicate glass down onto the pure white table cloth, he stood and offered his arm to me. Stumbling and tripping through the lounge, I was mortified by the gazes of the many patrons of the hotel as the openly stared at us. Undoubtedly, Remi would pay for the embarrassment he had inflicted upon me.

After stumbling up several flights of stairs, Remi spent several minutes fumbling the key in the lock. Finally, the door pushed open with a creak and Remi fell inside, dragging me with him. I pushed the door closed, carefully making sure to let it unlocked. Remi wrapped his arms around me and sloppy kissed my neck. Disgustedly I pushed him off and he fell to the floor in a daze. "You're disgusting," I sneered. "Did you REALLY think I'd ever let you lay a finger on me. Grabbing the silk tie holding back the curtain, I easily bound the drunken man hand and foot.

"Now," I said pausing to grab another tasseled tie. "I'm sure there are some simple women whom you've seduced. "But," I said as I finished twisting the rope like tie into a makeshift noose. "I'm not like other women. I've had to...adapt." Carelessly, I tossed to noose over the despicable man's head as I tripped over towards the large vanity sitting near the bed. I started slightly as the door slammed open.

"Well, well, well Meg," called Erik. "It looks like you've done quite well." Erik let out a burst of laughter. I paused from heavily powdering my face to shoot a grin in his direction. Remi looked around, his eyes dull and cloudy. He began to yell hoarsely. Erik sighed in aggravation. "This will not do," he muttered. Grabbing a tall brass candlestick off the vanity, he hit Remi in the back of the head with a dull thud. Remi slumped forward, held in his chair by his bonds and remained motionless.

Brushing the waxy red substance on my lips, I smoothed them together and screwed the lid back on the compact. Dabbing a short brush into the black powder, I rubbed the black makeup all around my eyes. "Ahhh, Meg," Erik said. "You look beautiful...and bewitching. I stopped the inspection of my face to blow a kiss his way.

"Erik, you should've heard all the things he was suggesting he would do to me," I said pouting. I began to run through the list of rather shameful things Remi had stated and to my surprise, Erik's lips raised in a half smile.

"He was going to kiss your neck," Erik murmured. He stepped towards me and placed his hands on my hips. "Like this?" Erik brought his lips to my throat and ever so softly trailed kisses across my collarbone. I couldn't help the way my body positively quivered as his hands slid around to my back. "And he was going to slide his hands all over your bare skin?" Erik whispered his voice grating in my ear. I felt the dress loosen as the pearl buttons were slid from their holes.

Erik brought his gloved hands to my front and tugged my sleeves down over my wrists. As the dress fell to the floor, his hands traced up my arms, caressing my bare neck and shoulders. Erik growled softly and quickly peeled off his gloves and tossed them to the floor beside my dress. I gently caught one of his hands in my own. Examining it, I was surprised by the largeness of it. Seeing his bare hands rather humanized him, making him seem more human and less ghostly phantom.

"What else did he _threaten _to do?" Erik asked his breath warm against my neck.

"He," I began, but my breath caught in my throat as the strings on my corset were loosened. "He said he would run his tongue all over me," I said, emphasizing the word all. My breathing quickened as Erik's hot tongue flicked against my neck and slid down towards my chest. A sudden moan pulled him away from me.

The moan had come from Remi's throat as he regained consciousness. Erik straightened and strode purposefully towards Remi. As I realized my indecency, I hastily pulled the dress up over my body. Struggling, I managed to get most of it buttoned even though my corset was a tad bit looser. Erik was now taunting Remi.

"Monsieur, shame on you thinking you could take advantage of this young lady. However, I'm afraid you've committed a much more...deadly sin. You have refused the Opera Ghost funds that were due...several times." Erik fingered the end of the curtain tie that I had formed into a noose. "Any last words?"

In his drunken state, Remi's stupidity was heightened. Defiantly, he spat at the legendary Phantom who in turn motioned to me. "Teach him a lesson my dear," he said with a tilt of his head. Nodding, I plucked a feather from my fan. Although it looked harmless enough, I dared not to touch the shaft which was obviously the site of the poison.

"Now, now Remi," I crooned. "That was a stupid thing to do." He had spat at Erik. Possessiveness filled me and without thinking, I repeated stabbed Remi's arm with the feather, making sure to break skin each time. Within seconds, his entire arm was swollen and an angry reddish purple color. Defiantly I tossed the feather to the floor and danced back over to Erik's side. "Excellent," he said fondly as he caressed my cheek with a thumb. Then, pushing me back, he strode over to Remi once more.

"Now then, I will have my revenge," Erik said, his lips twisted in what could only be described as a cruel smirk. Grabbing the curtain tie, he pulled the end. As the makeshift noose grew tighter, Remi's face reddened and he started gasping and choking. Finally, he slumped forward again only this time I knew he wouldn't be waking up. For some reason I found this hysterically funny and my laughter peeled through the room. Erik looked at me, one eyebrow raised. Grabbing his hands, I led him around the room in a violent and fast waltz.

"We did it!" I screeched through my laughter. "It's done." Erik pulled away.

"Not quite," he murmured. "Remember the matches?" Nodding in remembrance, I picked up my discarded clutch. As I pulled the bundle of stick matches from it, Erik generously sprinkled what appeared to be oil all over the bed. Fearfully, I struck the match and the flame burst to life. I tossed it onto the bed and watched with wonder as it caught fire.

"Meg?" Erik's voice broke into my thoughts. "This would be the time when we leave." My eyes grew wide and I broke into a run towards the door. "Ah, ah, ah. Not like that. Someone will suspect," Erik said. I couldn't help but smirk.

"Me looking like this? Someone will 'suspect' anyway." Erik pulled me out of the room and down the hallway towards the servant's staircase. Once down the stairs, we left through the back door. Making our way through alleys and backstreets, we finally paused for breath. We had done it; me as an arsonist with a murderer at my side. Together, we could do anything.

"The night is still young my dear," Erik said gently. "There are still things to be done." So, arm in arm, we strode down the streets into the night.

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**A/N: **I'm SOOOOO sorry about the massive delay! I've just been so incredibly busy with lack of inspiration on top of that. This just wasn't that great of a chapter to write. As soon as the Phantom goes after members of the Opera Populair it will get better! Promise! To anyone still reading, Thank you so much!!! Reviews would be amazing!  
XOXO Sweet Coldkiss


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